Keeping You a Secret
by Ymir Eberhardt
Summary: (Gensokyo Academy: Touhou AU) Sequel to Snowfalls. Remilia and Flandre try to keep their incestuous relationship a secret as they stay home for winter break. M for sexual content and violence.
1. Chapter 1

The main hall of Gensokyo Academy was full of students bustling about, dragging suitcases and giving each other heartfelt hugs.

"You _better_ email me," Alice Margatroid was yelling at her girlfriend, Marisa.

"I live next door to you, ze!" Marisa exclaimed. "Why would I need to-"

"I didn't say I would leave my house."

"You are so weird."

"_Just do it_," Alice said finally, punching Marisa in the arm. The two of them then kissed passionately.

"Ugh, romance. So overrated," Patchouli said behind me.

"Bitter as usual?" I asked, wearing my trademark smirk.

"Shut up."

"Oh, don't feel bad," I said, patting her arm. "Marisa will like you after winter break."

"That's the thing. I don't want her to!" Patchouli exclaimed.

"Is there a new girl?" I teased.

Just as Patchouli told me to visit a scary, dark underground place, Flandre, Koakuma, and Meiling walked toward us.

"Aw, _Patches_," Koakuma said, embracing her, "don't tell Remi-chan to go to hell! That's not nice!"

"Ah, there _is_ a new girl!" I said, throwing my hands in the air for impact.

"You little-"

"Hey!" Meiling shouted, interrupting Patchouli's insult. "Look at my shirt!"

In green, bold English, the words "Made in China" were etched across the front.

I grinned. "That is _brilliant!_"

"It's disgusting," Patchouli said.

"Don't you get it?" Meiling asked, crestfallen. "I was _made_ in-"

"Yes, I get it. It's tacky," Patchouli retorted.

"Someone's pissy today," Flandre giggled, hugging my side.

"So I heard the two of you finally did it," Meiling said, turning to Flandre.

"Yes, and it was _amaaaazing_!" Flandre drawled, holding me tighter.

"Hey, since you two are going home, what will your family say about..." Koakuma's voice faltered, and she made scissoring motions with her fingers.

I cringed. "They don't know and they won't find out."

"Hopefully," Flandre added.

"_Flan_..."

"Well, you're loud!"

Meiling cracked up. "We do have paper-thin walls here. I could hear you."

"You didn't," I growled.

"Oh, but I did. You should've seen the look on Sakuya's face!"

I buried my face in my hands.

Flandre patted my shoulder. "We're going to try to be as sisterly and normal as we can for our family. Right, Remilia?"

"Right," I groaned.

"Which means no sex," Koakuma added.

I groaned again, and Flandre laughed. "Maybe she can be quiet. I don't know how long I want to go without that..."

"You're such a pervert, Flandre," I mumbled.

"You like it," she cooed, petting my hair.

Meiling giggled. "You two are adorable. I just hope you can keep everything under wraps." Then her face grew solemn, and she kneeled to hour height. "If anything happens, call me."

"What can you do about it?" Flandre asked. "You're in Shanghai!"

"I'll manage," she said. "I just can't stand to hear the two of you hurt."

A girl with green hair and a clipboard approached us. "I'm looking for...ah...Kurenai Misuzu?"

"That's me. Hong Meiling," Meiling corrected.

The girl squinted. "Hong...Meirin?"

Meiling sighed. "Close enough."

"Your ride is here."

"Ah, good. I'll see you all next term!" Meiling ran immodestly off to the front doors.

The girl turned to us.

"Hey, aren't you Cirno's friend, Daiyousei?" Flandre asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Anyway. You two are going to be taken to the airport by Saigyouji-sensei. Your...contact couldn't make it."

Flandre groaned. "Our family is so flaky."

"Come on," I said, giving Patchouli and Koakuma quick hugs. "Let's get this hell over with."


	2. Chapter 2

Flandre and I sat in the back of Yuyuko Saigyouji's car, fingers linked and hearts pounding.

Yuyuko eyed us from her rearview mirror. "You don't look so good. Things okay at home?"

"Yes," Flandre squeaked a little too quickly.

Yuyuko raised an eyebrow. "I heard a rumor that you two are romantically involved."

I nodded. "It's true."

Yuyuko grinned. "Aww! I _love_ young love! And you two are so cute together!"

"Thank you," Flandre and I replied in unison. Yuyuko was an interesting philosophy teacher. She was extremely relaxed; she disregarded honorifics and gave everyone As no matter how they participated. She seemed to have this general love for everything and everyone, and as a teacher, she was supposed to act more mature, yet always fell back on her flouncy ways.

"So. Do your parents know? Are you going to tell them?" Yuyuko was practically bouncing in the driver's seat.

"Our parents are...umm..."

"Catholic," I finished for Flandre. "The conservative and prim type. I highly doubt it'd go over well."

Yuyuko frowned. "That sucks a lot. Do you two have a plan?"

"We're going to act normal," Flandre said.

Yuyuko snorted, then busted up laughing. "You two? Normal?"

"We need help with that," Flandre admitted.

"How _are_ siblings supposed to act?" I asked.

Yuyuko pursed her lips. "It depends...oh hey, I have an idea!"

We leaned forward.

"You two could basically pretend you hate each other," she said. "That way, you two won't show physical affection and can basically avoid anything that may appear incestuous."

I nodded. "I like your thinking."

"_And_ you two could have stupendous sex at night when no one's around!"

I groaned and Flandre giggled. "She's too loud," Flandre said. "We may have to wait a couple of weeks."

"Just kiss her to muffle it," Yuyuko said helpfully. "Or you two could 69. Or-"

"Oh, hey, the airport's over there," I interrupted, blushing.

"I'll park and walk you two in and make sure you two get on okay," Yuyuko replied, turning.

As soon as we parked and grabbed our suitcases, Flandre whimpered, "I've gotta pee."

"Then let's hurry," I said. "Come on, Yuyuko."

We ran into the airport fifteen minutes before our flight, which gave Yuyuko snack time and Flandre time to urinate.

"Can you come with me?" Flandre asked, making her eyes large and innocent. "I have an idea."

I nodded, feeling my stomach tingle with excitement. "Yuyuko, can you watch our stuff?"

Yuyuko grinned. "Oh, I know what you two are up to. Fifteen minutes! I'll barge in if you're not finished!"

I groaned and ran off with Flandre to the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Flandre pulled me into a stall with her, pulled down her jeans, and did her business right in front of me. I tried to turn away, to ignore the sounds, to think of anything but the arousing sensation the display was giving me.

"Remi?" she murmured. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I replied, adjusting my legs.

"Do you want to play?"

My eyes widened as I heard those words, but I kept my eyes fixated on the door. "Right here? Now?"

"We won't get many chances later on," she said.

I sighed. "If we get caught, I'll murder you." And I pulled my clothing off, hanging it on the coathanger on the door.

"Turn around," Flandre commanded.

I sighed again and obliged. The sight before me was enough for me to die of sexual frustration. Flandre, being the tease that she is, was perched on the toilet seat, clothing tossed away to her right. Her fingers worked their magic on a sensitive spot in her nether regions, circling slowly and making her flush.

"Come on, Remi," she purred.

I squirmed a little and approached her, pulling her in for an aggressive kiss. She moaned a little in my mouth as my tongue darted between her lips. We kissed for a while until I pushed her hand out of the way and replaced it with mine. I rubbed her excited flesh slowly and listened to her rapid, irregular breaths as I planted various kisses across her collarbone.

"Remilia?" she asked as my hand quickened its pace.

"Yes, my love?"

"Don't stop."

"I won't," I said, giggling a little at her ridiculous statement.

"You...oh God. Curl your fingers a little more."

I did as she requested, and as soon as she started to scream in response, I used Yuyuko's kissing suggestion. Flandre bit my lip hard. I quickened the pace and used my thumb to circle her clit wildly.

"Oh God...Remilia..." she said into my mouth. "I love you." And her walls contracted. I held her as she climaxed, and pulled my hand out of her.

There was a knock on our door. "Girls? You in there?"

"Hi, Yuyuko," Flandre said, out of breath.

"It's been fifteen minutes. We have to go."

I groaned. Now my feelings wouldn't be reciprocated.

"Come on! Flandre said, pulling on her clothing. "Let's run!"


	4. Chapter 4

Flandre and I did make it to our flight on time; however, Yuyuko seemed reluctant to let us go.

"You two stay safe and have fun," she said, the jubilant lilt in her voice gone. "I'll see you in two weeks."

We hugged our teacher, bowed respectfully, and got on board. The flight itself was originally quite boring for me; Flandre busied herself with _Elfen Lied_, a manga her roommate Koishi had lent her. After sitting in silence next to my sister, I became aware yet again of my growing arousal. I crossed my legs and wiggled a little, as if that would help my release. It didn't.

"Are you alright?" Flandre asked after a few hours of my pathetic attempts. She looked up from a particularly gory part of the story, her eyes filled with concern.

"No, I'm not okay, Flandre!" I said loudly, earning glances from people sitting near us. I glared at them, and they turned back to their business. Looking at Flandre, I whispered, "You didn't reciprocate!"

"We didn't have time!" she whispered back. "Otherwise, I would've!"

"I know that, but the feeling isn't going away."

A grin spread on her face. "You were trying to make yourself come by doing...that?"

"Shut up," I said, blushing furiously.

She set the book aside. "I have an idea." She proceeded to stand on her seat and reach for her carryon above her head.

"What the hell?" I asked.

"I have a blanket in my carryon," she said. "If I put the blanket over us, then we can...do as we please." She smiled and handed me gum. "Chew on this. If you feel like vocalizing, just bite down."

I nodded and took it. "What if I swallow it?"

"I'll get you a new one." She came back down, holding the fleece fuscia blanket. She lifted the armrest in between our seats and spread the blanket over our laps. "Ready?"

"I hope that was a rhetorical question," I groaned.

"Of course it was," she said, reaching for my leg. "If I do this, will you do the same to me?"

I nodded and unzipped her jeans, slipping my hand under the fabric of her panties.

"Thank God you're wearing a skirt," she grinned, reaching underneath and pushing against me. Peeling my panties aside a little, she said, "Now to business."

As soon as her fingers came into contact with my flesh, I bit my gum hard. It was difficult being unable to vocalize how _good_ she was at this. Her thumb found my clit and rubbed wildly, and I groaned in spite of myself. I leaned on her shoulder as she slid inside of me. "Flandre," I whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, flushing at my ministrations. "Remember to do that finger curling thing I told you about earlier."

"Don't be so descriptive," I warned her. "We're in public."

"I forgot," she said.

I rolled my eyes and thrust inside, eyes widening as she did the same motion to me. "Oh God," I said.

"Gum," she reminded me. "Let go."

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, biting down. It seemed to work pretty well. "Oh God..." I whispered through my teeth. And I released, feeling her doing the same in the palm of my hand.

After we finished, she asked, "Feeling better?"

"Loads," I said. "We can...do more once we get home, right?"

"I promise," she said. "I think you've mastered the art of being quiet."

We cuddled a little after that, watching the night sky out the window. "I'm going to fall asleep," Flandre informed me. "So don't move."

I sighed. "Goodnight, Flandre."

"Goodnight, onee-sama," she giggled, closing her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

"Remilia! We're Here!" Flandre yelled in my ear.

I jumped and opened my eyes. Sunlight streamed through the airplane's windows, making my eyes water. "Did I sleep the whole time?" I asked incredulously.

"It was adorable," Flandre gushed. "You talk in your sleep!"

"Do not!"

"Do too! You were all, 'ohhh, Flandre...mmmm...'" She closed her eyes for dramatic effect.

"Shut the hell up!" I squealed, smacking the back of her head.

She giggled. "Come on, Remi. Let's get going."

I stood and stretched, then grabbed my carryon and followed the other passengers off.

As we walked, Flandre gasped, "Look! Zia Geneva!" She let go of my hand and ran to our aunt, hugging her aggressively.

Geneva was our favorite relative; she was about 27 and spent more time with us than our birthparents. Needless to say, I wasn't surprised she was the one who met with us.

"_Ciao, zia!_" I called, following my sister.

"_Come va_?" She asked, hugging and kissing me.

"_BENISSIMO!_" Flandre shrieked, bouncing. Then added, "Now that you're here."

"Was the flight okay?" She asked, her doelike brown eyes full of concern.

"I suppose," I replied.

"Remi slept through it," Flandre continued.

She laughed-a merry, musical sound. Tying her blonde hair back, she said, "You'll have to tell me everything about Gensokyo Academy in the car. Let's go get your passports checked and get your other suitcases."

***

We hadn't seen Geneva since last summer, so there was much to talk about. We told her everything-well, almost everything-about our school life, and she shared stories of working as a fashion designer in Florence.

"I even designed you a new dress!" Geneva exclaimed to me.

"Boring," Flandre gagged.

"Don't worry, Flan," Geneva said, "I got you one, too."

"Pshh. I don't care about fash-wait, what color?"

Geneva laughed. "I know your tastes well. It's a surprise."

"Oh, it better be red. I like red."

"Speaking of tastes...have you two found boyfriends yet?"

A chill went up my spine, and a blush appeared on my cheeks.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Remilia!" Geneva gasped. "I forgot that you're a lesbian!"

Geneva was fairly liberal, in heavy contrast to the rest of our family. She was the first and only family member I came out to. We never discussed my sexuality in depth, but she was accepting.

"We go to an all-girls' school," Flandre added, "So even if Remi was straight, she wouldn't have much luck. Unless if she dated Wriggle."

"Wriggle's a girl, Flandre."

"I doubt it." Flandre stuck out her tongue.

"She is!"

"Who's Wriggle?" Geneva asked.

"A shemale," Flandre decided.

"FLAN!" I hissed.

"Sorry, but come on!"

Geneva threw her hands up in the air to silence us. "So, Remilia," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Any girls?"

I picked at a hangnail. "Maybe..."

"Is she that Sakuya girl you were talking about last year?"

"No," I said, trying to keep my voice even.

"Should we tell her?" Flandre asked.

"Tell me what?" Geneva asked. "Oooh, there IS a girl, isn't there!"

"I don't know, Flandre," I mumbled.

"Come on, Remi. It's Geneva! It's not like she'll tattle."

"I swear on my grandfather's grave," Geneva promised, "that I won't tattle. But I doubt it's that bad. Just...describe her to me, if you're that nervous."

"She's about 155 centimeters tall, blonde, a first year, weird fashion sense, has ADHD...she's the yang to my yin."

Geneva was ominously silent. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind. "Remilia," She said finally, "are you and Flandre...a couple?"

"Yes," I said softly.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you okay, Geneva?" Flandre asked. Her voice cracked, as if she were close to tears.

Geneva gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles as white as the snow outside. "I love you girls," she said softly, "but that's a little much for me to handle."

My stomach churned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can't accept it." She kept her eyes on the road ahead, not daring to drop her gaze to Flandre or me.

Flandre kicked Geneva's seat, making her jump. "You accepted us through _all_ the shit we've been through. You believed in us even when we had lost our own hope. Yet now we say something you don't like, and you can't even look at us?" I didn't turn around, but I could tell Flandre was crying at this point. "I _love_ Remilia. She's charismatic and sardonic and she's just perfect! When she came out to you, you told her, 'love is love.' Well, guess what? WE FOUND LOVE IN EACH OTHER."

"Flandre," Geneva said softly, "let's not talk about this anymore."

I turned to see Flandre's face buried in her hands. She was sniffling, her shoulders shaking from her ragged breaths. "But...I...love...her!"

Geneva sighed. "It's not normal. You have to stop."

Anger hardened in my chest, a plaster making it difficult to breathe. "How dare you," I hissed beneath gritted teeth.

"Remilia," Geneva said in a warning tone.

"How dare you push for information on our personal lives," I said in a low voice, "and then shun it because it doesn't agree with your beliefs? How dare you sit there with frosty apathy and make Flandre cry?! She's a fragile girl, Geneva, and you of all people should know that!"

Geneva's eyes narrowed, and she turned abruptly, pulling aside to the curb. "You two can walk home. I'm telling your parents."

"That's unjust!" I cried out. "You promised!"

"Out. NOW."

Flandre was sobbing at this point, and she could barely climb out of the car. "You're...s-so...c-c-cruel," she said in between breaths. I put my arm around her and took our suitcases out of the trunk. As soon as the door closed, she sped off, tires squealing.

Our only pillar of support in the Scarlet family had abandoned us.


	7. Chapter 7

Snow is so beautiful from a distance. It is so delicate and soft-looking, but once you step outside into the harshness, you instantly regret it. It's too cold to be enjoyable.

As I walked with my crying sister, I decided that love was the same way. The idea is beautiful, yes, just as how it seems oh so lovely to traipse around in clouds of snow. But once you have dedicated yourself, it is harsh. Both Mother Nature and Love will chew you up and spit you out.

Needless to say, it was cold putside.

"I don't want to go home," Flandre sniffled, rubbing her nose on her sleeve.

I held her close and watched the tears on her cheeks freeze on their journey south. "Neither do I, but we must get back. We'll freeze to death out here." Despite my bravado, my teeth chattered, and I felt a deep sense of fear churn in my anxious gut.

"But father," she murmured, rubbing her cheeks. "She told him. I know it!"

"Hush," I said, kissing the top of her head. "We still have each other."

We walked, arms linked, to our residency in silence. As soon as our luxurious Rennaissance-inspired home appeared in our vision, Flandre hiccupped loudly.

I squeezed her hand and picked up the pace, somewhat dragging her behind me. "We need to get this over with," I said. "And when the cat is out of the bag, we call Meiling."

"Meiling!" She squeaked.

I riffled her unevenly-cut hair and opened the double doors.

"Father," I called out in clear English. "We're home."

Our paternal figure, Percival Scarlet, was standing beside the winding marble staircase in the entrance. He held a telephone in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. His current facial expression reminded me of Flandre's face when she blew up her first firecracker-surprised and in awe, with an irritated undertone, as if more was expected.

"I have to go," he tittered to the phone in Italian. Hanging up, he locked his eyes on us. The eyes were the only way an outsider could recognize a Scarlet-slightly almond-shaped and upturned, but a heavenly golden color, lined with thick black lashes. In certain lightings, our eyes nearly shone red, but people always informed me that my imagination was getting the best of me.

"Hello, Father," we whispered, using the family's true native language-English.

As much as I hated to admit it, I truly took after my family. My family all consisted of legal American citizens who traveled from country to country due to the benefit of having enough pocket money. Each relative of mine fell in love with a certain region and claimed it, making it their own. Flandre, as expressed by her name, was born in Belgium two years after my birth in Rome. We were both raised by our father, who begged us to stay in Italy. I loved the rich culture, and being Italian became a part of me, no matter how un-Italian I genetically and racially was. The only girl who knew my secret was Patchouli, who visited me in my United States home. I bit my lip as I pondered what a liar I had become. I was not this Italian prima donna I had dressed myself up to be at school, and I was in love with my biological sister. Both of the roles were being shedded before me as our father studied us, sipping wine.

"I have no idea what to do withh the two of you," he said flatly. He neared toward me, and I swallowed the ball of saliva forming in my mouth. "You look the same; stupidly dressed with the same arrogant smirk I loathe. Do you know what else I loathe? What the Church loathes?" His voice shot higher as he waved his arms and grew visibly angey. "This relationship you two are engaged in! Your dear aunt had the courtesy to tell me that the two of you were not only lesbians, but romantically entertwined."

Flandre started to cry again. "We're sorry, F-father..."

He reached over and slapped her tearstained cheek. "Stop crying. You're almost fifteen years old. And what the hell happened to your hair?"

"F-fire accident," she stammered. "M-my firework exploded on m-me."

"You are so immature," he said. The amazed light in his eyes I had seen earlier were replaced with the fire of fury, as if Flandre's defunct firework resided within his pupil. "I cannot believe the two of you. If I were a smart father, I would withdraw the two of you from your school."

"No," Flandre whispered.

"I would. But I cannot. You two must finish the year due to transcripts. But I'm afraid you will be separated. I will not allow this behavior in my household, and most certainly will not allow you to leave. So Flandre, your new room is in the east wing, and Remilia, yours is in the west. You are not allowed to speak, look at, or even breathe with the other." And with that, he stormed off, leaving Flandre crying at my side.


	8. Chapter 8

At least Father let me have the luxury of my bedroom.

It was nice to retire in a private place; at school, I had a roommate, so I had to get used to sharing the space with Satori. But at my house, I've got it all to myself. Back before everything was messed up, Flandre and I often spent time together in the basement, where she stored her guitars, manga, and science experiments.

My bedroom is a polar opposite to the mess downstairs.

I'm a neat freak; when I'm at home, I try to avoid leaving specks of dust anywhere. My walls are blue, while the basement's are bright red; since I have anger and stress issues, Patchouli researched solutions, and she said that having a relaxing bedroom helped, and light blue was an excellent color. With that, I tried to keep an Oriental theme mixed with artifacts from countries I've visited. Out of my collection, though, my favorite work of art was the peacock Sakuya painted.

When we first met, she told me that I reminded her of that bird. It was last year's Christmas present and her way of asking me out. Of course, I accepted. Even though we were no longer a couple, I still felt fuzzy inside when I see it.

I tossed my suitcase on the floor and slammed the door. I knew that I said that I'd talk to Meiling, but for some reason, I felt the burning desire to hear Sakuya's opinion.

I turned on my laptop. I had a voicemail from her on Skype; in panicked Japanese, she said, "It's Sakuya. I just wanted to make sure you and your sister were…alright and all. Just know that I'm not mad at you. I love you."

I love you.

I played the message a few more times. Sakuya still loved me?

She was online. Deciding that an IM wouldn't hurt, I typed, "I'm home."

Instantly, she replied. "Oh, thank the gods. Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm physically whole."

"…Your father found out, didn't he."

"Yes. He separated Flandre and me."

There was a long pause. "Like you two will really stay apart. Flandre's clever. She'll find a way to keep you two together, right?"

"Is that what you want?" Right after I hit enter, I felt bad about it.

"Why does it matter what I want?"

I sighed. I could almost hear the annoyed edge in Sakuya's tone, even though she wasn't speaking. "Because I…care about you."

"Do you."

"Well, yes. We're close friends."

"Not close enough."

"What do you mean?"

Another pause. "I just want what's best for you."

"You're still in love with me."

"Of course. It's impossible not to be. And frankly, I'm quite jealous of Flandre for having a gem like you. If I were vindictive, I'd steal you away. But since I love you more than that, I won't. I have an idea."

"What is it?" Excitement bubbled inside of me.

"I'm in Milan right now."

"Why?"

"My mother's on an art tour. I'm spending Christmas with her."

The Izayoi family was full of talented artists, her mother being possibly the most famous. Even my father had prints of Hana Izayoi's artwork on his walls. "So you want to come visit?"

"Yes. I mean…your aunt Geneva knew about me. Maybe she could be convinced that we're getting back together."

"But Flandre and I just told her that we were together. It was stupid, I know, so don't lecture me."

"I never lecture you."

That was true; I mainly told Sakuya what to do. She only corrected my calculus.

Sakuya continued, "I'll get a ride from my sister over to Citta dell'Allerghi, and we'll spend a week together at your vineyard. It'll be a surprise. Besides, I have a Christmas present for you."

"You do?"

"Of course I do! It's handmade."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. "When will you arrive?"

There was a five minute pause. "Saomi agreed. We'll be there in a few hours. What time do you normally have supper?"

"We're Italians, Sakuya! It's a three-hour ordeal!"

She typed a smiley face, then said, "I'll be there at five. Does that work?"

"Yes. I can't wait to see you."

"Really?"

"Sakuya…I don't hate you."

"Oh, that's nice. I appreciate not being hated."

"You misunderstand me."

Another pause. "I need to go, Remilia. Save me some wine, if you're eating when I arrive."

"Will do. Love you."

"I love you with all my heart and soul, Remilia-sama." With that, she signed off.

I groaned and hit the back of my head against my headboard. What mess had I gotten myself into this time? Not only did I have to deal with Flandre, I had something with Sakuya…something unexplainable. And since I couldn't find an explanation for what was going on with my heart and mind, I wasn't sure if I liked the road I was headed down.


	9. Chapter 9

Just moments after I finished unpacking, Father opened my door and stood in the threshold.

"What do you want?" I asked, knowing good and well that I sounded like a moody teenager. I liked being a classy, cultured young lady with a bit of spice, and acting my age marred the image. Needless to say, it took a lot of self-control to not cringe at my tone.

He sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting beside me, careful not to spill the crimson contents in his wineglass. "My question is why, Remilia. Why would you do something so disgusting?"

"It isn't the worst of my evils," I muttered.

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

I pursed my lips in annoyance. "You're hiding behind the image of being a devout catholic because you're insecure about our history. I"m not an idiot."

He took a sip from his wineglass. As he moved, I got a whiff of the metallic scent. "Don't drag our vampirism into this, Remilia."

"You have no idea how hard it is for us, do you?" I snapped. "I Turned when I was twelve!" I stood. "I'm stuck as a blood-drinking child forever. The only other girl who understands is Flandre, because she and I had the same experience! And that's how we bonded! The school has NOTHING to do with it!"

"It was an accident," Father said icily. "We wanted to wait until you were eighteen, like the others."

"I know, but at this point, intention doesn't matter. You should've taught Alessandro to control his bloodlust! If Flandre and I can, then so can he. He's a grown man!"

Alessandro was Geneva's twin brother and my father's younger brother. He lived on our vineyard while Flandre and I were in secondary school. Like the overwhelming majority of the Scarlet family, Alessandro was a vampire, Turned on his eighteenth birthday by my father.

As Alessandro's Sire, it was my father's responsibility to train him in feeding habits, manipulating qi in order to drain a victim's life energy without blood, and so on, but he did a terrible job; after all, Father was only twenty-one at the time.

On July 26th, 2008, just a month before my thirteenth birthday, Alessandro lost control and fed from me. As I fought him off, he put some of his vampiric energy into me instead of draining my human qi, thereby Turning me. Since I left his appetite unfinished, he moved on to my sister in the next bed.

Father cleared his throat and handed me the wineglass. "You can finish it. I've lost my appetite. Ironically, dinner is in half an hour, so come downstairs then."

I drained the glass in one swallow and licked my lips. My best friend, Patchouli, whose British family is a friend of the Scarlets, is my current donor, and the blood in the glass was nowhere near as delicious as hers. I was hungry enough to enjoy it, though.

"Father?" I asked just as he walked through the threshold.

"Yes, Remilia?"

"I know this probably won't help, but...I love women in general, not men."

He sighed. "I know. Geneva told me years ago. I'd be pretty blind to not realize that."

"And you don't care?"

"I wish I cared more."

"So...if I went off with another woman and left Flandre, you'd be okay with that?"

He looked at the ceiling in thought. "It depends on the girl." He fixed his eyes back on me. "I do love you dearly, Remilia. Remember that."

"I love you, too, Father."

He nodded and closed the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

I was relieved that the only people-aside from the Izayoi sisters in a few moments-in the house were myself, Flandre, and my father, because I was not in the mood to deal with my extended family. The Scarlets were a clan of dreamers, travelers, intellectuals, and entrepreneurs, and for those reasons, I normally looked forward to coming home and seeing them, but with jet lag and drama, I was finished with social interaction.

I set my laptop on my nightstand, turned my iPod to its symphonic metal playlist, and dozed off to the sweet sounds of melancholy violins. It was a murky, dreamless sleep where I swam in seas of darkness beneath my eyelids, but I slowly lost my full consciousness...

A warm hand touched my shoulder. "Remilia?"

I jumped and smacked the woman disturbing my sleep, and she shrieked and recoiled.

"I'm sorry, milady?"

_Milady?_ I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

It was Sakuya.

"What are you doing in my room, you creep?" I asked. "Watching me sleep?"

Her cheeks flushed, accentuating the pale blue in her irises. I remembered getting lost in those eyes so many times in our relationship in the past, but I pushed any romantic feelings I had for her to the back of my mind. I couldn't do this to Flandre, even if I wasn't allowed to be with her.

"I've only been here a few moments," she said. "My sister and I got here a few hours ago. You slept through dinner, so I brought you up some spaghetti with pancetta."

I thanked her, and she set the plate of delicious, authentic Italian food on my lap. I motioned for Sakuya to have a seat beside me as I ate, and we chatted nonchalantly for a while about absolutely nothing important. Once an awkward silence settled over us and she watched me eat, a bold, daring thought crossed my mind. Without a moment of hesitation, I slipped the end of a noodle between her lips.

She eyed me curiously, her aquamarine eyes wide.

With a smirk, I took the other end.

She tried not to smile and her cheeks flushed as we inched closer together. Every part of me melted when our lips finally touched. The nostalgia of our relationship last year sent chills down my spine and a warmth spreading over places a lady shouldn't speak of.

She tasted like parmesan and chardonnay, two of y many favorite flavors. I slid my tongue between her lips, craving more, and she met me halfway. Part of me wanted to push the empty plate aside and take her then and there, but a much larger part of me churned with guilt, so I broke the kiss.

"We...shouldn't do this," I said. "Flandre..."

Were those tears in her eyes? It was hard to tell sometimes. She sighed and said, "I understand and respect your wishes...but I just want you to know that I crave more of this." She stroked my hair for a moment, and I rested my head on her shoulder. I didn't want her to leave, but I knew that it would only go downhill from here. "I'll let you sleep," she continued. "You've had a long day. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to spend some time with Flandre."

I slid out of bed. "Not without me."


End file.
